


i'm afraid (i'll admit) i'm falling in love

by euphoricland



Category: ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Come as Lube, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Established Relationship, Fantasizing, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Overworking, Pre-OT3, Shower Sex, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26725852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphoricland/pseuds/euphoricland
Summary: Hyungu has been entertaining the idea that Yonghoon and Youngjo are more than friends for a couple of weeks now.It’s their interactions.  When they think no one is paying attention to them, the soft, lingering touches, the way Yonghoon’s eyes crinkle with his smile when Youngjo throws any attention on him.  How Youngjo’s hands seem to have more and more excuses to be on Yonghoon’s body.It’s a different kind of affection than what they tend to boast when there’s eyes on them.  The performance of over the top loving gestures, kisses to the back of Yonghoon’s neck, back hugs that usually result in a lot of raucous laughter, giggling struggles.Hyungu thinks about it, and thinks about it, and wonders who made the first move, who asked who first.
Relationships: Jin Yonghoon/Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun, Jin Yonghoon/Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun/Kim Youngjo | Ravn, Jin Yonghoon/Kim Youngjo | Ravn, Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun/Kim Youngjo | Ravn
Comments: 16
Kudos: 62





	i'm afraid (i'll admit) i'm falling in love

Hyungu watches quietly.

Yonghoon’s burst of breathless laughter breaks over their practice room. Hyungu fiddles with his bracelet, hooking his thumb under it, pulling as Youngjo manages to manhandle Yonghoon into a hug.

Yonghoon pretends not to like it, for only a second, before he’s smiling wide and pearly white. Hyungu blinks. 

He smiles, leans forward to grab his guitar again. He wonders why it’s so hard for him to show this kind of affection.

Feels just a tiny bit bad that Yonghoon seems to go outsourcing for the affection the band refuses to give him.

Yonghoon makes a high pitch sound, a protest, Youngjo trying to kiss his neck. He shakes his head, strums his guitar idly before going through the notes they had been practicing before.

-

Dongmyeong lingers around the kitchen, laughing and prodding as Harin attempts to make some sort of homemade meal.

Hyungu sits on their dining table, notebook out, guitar next to him. Yonghoon walks in just as Dongmyeong is beginning to whine for Harin to pay attention to him.

“Why are you still working, it’s late,” Yonghoon says, dropping across from him, long legs folding, “food is almost ready,” he pulls back, calls louder, “right, Harin?”

Harin makes a sound that sounds noncommittal but Yonghoon still smiles, assured.

“Just writing some notes,” Hyungu closes his notebook, “putting my guitar away.”

He gets up, feels Yonghoon’s gaze on him, all the way to their dorm door.

He pushes the door, goes to his bunk. Giwook is laying on his stomach, typing out a message on his phone.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Hyungu asks, half curious, half teasing.

“Hyung, is not like that,” Giwook rolls his eyes, turns on his side, locking his phone, “it’s just Youngjo-hyung, we’re planning a time to meet and work on music together.”

Hyungu nods, tells Giwook the food is ready.

-

He overthinks it.

Because it’s what he does best, he _excels_ in it.

_Kim Youngjo._

Just what is it about Kim Youngjo?

He’s pretty, yes. But Hyungu isn’t new to having to stare at beautiful (heavenly) people (beings).

Yonghoon’s visuals are what people would describe as drop dead gorgeous. 

He’s tall, slim, nose straight and proud, lips pretty, muted rose red. 

His stomach drops at the image he’s reconstructed in his mind, Yonghoon in the limited beauty his brain can make up. 

He’s gotten pretty good at not letting it affect him. It seems entirely unfair that one person can be both so ridiculously good looking and so gifted, so dorky and cute and loving.

He shakes his head, stares at the bottom of the bunk over him. He _knows_ Yonghoon is beautiful, there’s no point in dwelling too much on that. 

But what is it about Kim Youngjo that has managed to catch the oldest's attention?

-

“Hyungu-ah,” someone calls his name, softly and tentative like the word is something they aren’t quite used to.

Hyungu looks up from where he was jotting down lyrics, little dotted notes in the melodies he dreams of.

He looks up, eyes trailing up the wide line of a sturdy chest, then the delicate prettiness of Kim Youngjo.

“Hyungu-ah,” he repeats, smiling, and unlike the other smiles Hyungu sees him feeding the other boys, this one is unsure, wavering, shy.

The smell of fried food doesn’t escape him, his mouth starts to water.

“It’s almost lunch time,” Youngjo says, smiling at him as he sits on the only other chair in Hyungu’s tiny _tiny_ studio, “aren’t you going to eat?”

Hyungu must look lost, completely petrified at the simple question. Youngjo laughs, a low soft chuckle. The bag rustles as he takes out a container of food, places it on Hyungu’s small desk.

“You can have my order,” he says, easy, “I can just share with Yonghoon-hyung.”

-

Hyungu has been entertaining the idea that Yonghoon and Youngjo are more than friends for a couple of weeks now.

It’s their interactions. When they think no one is paying attention to them, the soft, lingering touches, the way Yonghoon’s eyes crinkle with his smile when Youngjo throws any attention on him. How Youngjo’s hands seem to have more and more excuses to be on Yonghoon’s body.

It’s a different kind of affection than what they tend to boast when there’s eyes on them. The performance of over the top loving gestures, kisses to the back of Yonghoon’s neck, back hugs that usually result in a lot of raucous laughter, giggling struggles.

Hyungu thinks about it, and thinks about it, and wonders who made the first move, who asked who first. Was it Yonghoon in between nervous puffs of laughter? Was it Youngjo staring at him, dead set with his prying eyes, words tumbling smoothly from his pretty mouth?

Does Yonghoon let Youngjo kiss him as much as he wants? Does Youngjo write songs for Yonghoon just how Hyungu does? 

He sighs, taps his pen along the edge of his desk. Do the others think this much about this? Do they care as much as Hyungu does?

He moves his computer mouse, watches as the computer monitor fades into his open mixing program, stares at the lines of audio he’s merged together.

There’s just that _need_ , he needs to know, he can’t stop thinking about it.

-

For all the time they’ve been together Hyungu can safely say he’s never had a proper glimpse of Yonghoon’s body. He knows what everyone else knows. Yonghoon’s slim, his arms toned. He’s seen flashes of the other’s stomach, nothing too defined but most definitely flat, the faint lines of muscle.

For all the attention Yonghoon commands on stage, all the self compliments, the burgeoning overconfidence, Yonghoon is uncharacteristically conservative. What he overdoes in his affection and touches he more than covers up with his body. 

He’s caught off guard, he blinks but the fuzzy image of Yonghoon’s pale skin is still seared in his brain. The sharp contrast to Youngjo’s honey toned skin touching _his hyung’s_ bare skin.

Large hands grip at Younghoon’s slim waist, pull him back towards Yonghoon’s bed. Youngjo smiles as Yonghoon stumbles backwards, Yonghoon’s laughter starting to bubble over.

“Stop,” he whines, reaching back to swat at the other boy, “I need to put on a shirt before anyone comes back.”

“Why?” Youngjo’s hands grip tighter if anything, “is not like they haven’t seen you shirtless before.”

Yonghoon doesn’t answer, instead shimmies around until he’s finally free, huffing as he goes to grab one of the shirts hanging from the bed rail.

“Youngjo,” Yonghoon sighs, letting himself be wrapped back into Youngjo’s hold, “someone will really be here soon.”

“Your skin is still sticky,” Youngjo snorts, Yonghoon pushes him away, puts on an annoyed face. But it’s playful, endeared.

Hyungu steps back when Yonghoon starts walking towards the door, steps quick to get to the kitchen. He stands awkwardly as he hears the door open fully, the way the sink in the bathroom starts running.

“Oh,” Youngjo says as he steps into the small space. His t-shirt is tucked neatly into his pants, socked feet curling and uncurling as he looks at him, “Hyungu-ah,” he says, voice smooth as his smile breaks over his pretty lips, “when did you get home?”

“J-just now,” Hyungu stutters.

He can’t look at the other, knowing that he had seen something he shouldn’t have.

“Where are the others?” Youngjo asks, going to the sink for a glass.

Hyungu watches as he rinses the cup, reaches into their refrigerator for a bottle of juice.

“They’re still out...Dongmyeong wanted to watch a late movie. I wanted to come back and read a couple of pages from my book…”

“Ah,” Youngjo nods, takes a sip of his drink. The bathroom faucet goes quiet.

“I didn’t know Yonghoon-hyung was going to have visitors,” Hyungu says stupidly, like that’s supposed to erase the image of Yonghoon’s chest from his brain.

“Yonghoon-hyung?” Youngjo says in question, “I came over so he wouldn’t be so lonely.” 

The smile he throws Hyungu is crooked, _pleased_ if he reads too much into it.

“Oh, Hyungu-ah!” Yonghoon echoes Youngjo’s greeting. The fringe of his hair is matted down, shirt spotted with drops of water.

“You’re home early,” Yonghoon says, reaches for Youngjo’s cup, takes a sip, “are you ok?”

“Yeah,” Hyungu nods, swallows, throat dry, “just wanted to read before going to sleep.”

Yonghoon smiles at him, eyes creasing cutely, “then Youngjo will go home, so you can read peacefully.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Youngjo protests, but he leans away from the counter, steps small as he inches to the front door, he’s pouting and it distracts Hyungu from his internal crisis, body starting to feel warm.

“I’ll send you a message,” Yonghoon says, with an easy smile and the fluttering feeling bubbling in Hyungu’s stomach drops dead, heavy, and painful.

“Of course you will, hyung,” Youngjo says, his grin bright, “and I promise to answer right away.”

They’re showing off, Hyungu thinks miserably, it’s the overly grandiose display of affection they tend to do when they have an audience, the cameras, fans, anyone from ONEUS or ONEWE. 

He looks away when Yonghoon follows Youngjo, they have some sort of hushed exchange as Youngjo reaches for his shoes, and then the door opens and closes. Hyungu waits just enough to feel Yonghoon’s hand in his, pulling him towards their room.

“I’m tired,” Yonghoon says. 

It’s innocent but Hyungu can’t rid the images of Yonghoon shirtless, Youngjo in his bed. He shakes his head, Yonghoon leaves him, digs under the sheets of his bunk.

“It’s ok if you leave the lights on to read,” he sighs, “if you read out loud I’ll stay up with you.”

Hyungu stands in the middle of the room for a second, eyes on the lump under the covers, the covers rustle and Yonghoon’s eyes stare at him from over the blanket.

There’s a question in Yonghoon’s eyes, but Hyungu isn’t really sure he’s ready to answer it. Or if Yonghoon is ready for Hyungu’s answer.

He smiles, walks towards his bed, his bedside drawer, picking up the book he’s so carefully kept intact.

-

Hyungu sleepily eats his breakfast, his hair a mess. He has food in his mouth when Harin drifts in, walking straight towards the refrigerator.

“Hey,” he nods, takes out some stray eggs, “you look kinda like shit?”

Hyungu scoffs, settling his chin into the palm of his hand, “couldn’t sleep, anxious.”

Harin turns to look at him, he looks comical, eyes still sleepy, “I tried to keep them quiet,” Harin says, an apology.

“Yeah,” Hyungu smiles, “but you do really talk a lot.”

“I know, right?” Dongmyeong’s voice is loud, dragging in his grievance, “I did tell him to shut up, hyung, I promise!” 

He sticks his pinky finger out, grin wide. Hyungu rolls his eyes as he hooks his pinky with Dongmyeong, laughing when the younger jostles him.

Hyungu doesn’t get to give his smart reply before Yonghoon walks in, his long hair is floppy, feathering out where he’s obviously slept on his side. Hyungu’s eyes can’t look away from the soft pink, flushed from sleep, fading gently on Yonghoon’s cheek.

“Is Giwook awake?” he asks, voice still hoarse from sleep.

“He’s in the bathroom,” Dongmyeong answers easily, pulling away from Hyungu, edging away from Yonghoon’s affectionate pets. Hyungu snickers as Dongmyeong gets away scratch free. But it’s short lived. Yonghoon’s entire body envelops him, still warm from sleep, hair and skin soft, body just melting around Hyungu.

“Thanks for reading to me,” Yonghoon murmurs, sleep stupid.

“I was reading out loud and you happened to be in the room,” Hyungu snorts, finally coherent enough to nudge Yonghoon off him with his shoulder, “you fell asleep on the first page.”

Yonghoon pouts, or at least attempts to, his mouth quickly dropping into a grin, eyes shiny with his smile, “I was really tired,” he says simply, innocently.

Hyungu’s mind automatically goes to Youngjo, Yonghoon’s bare chest. He looks away, pretends to be more interested in his soggy makeshift cookie cereal, “whatever,” he mumbles, jams the spoon back into his mouth.

Yonghoon’s stare lingers a bit, Hyungu can feel it, but it’s fleeting, Yonghoon’s attention quickly flickering to Giwook, who waddles in fresh faced and ready to be annoyed.

“Ah, _hyung_ ,” Giwook’s whines are like clockwork and Hyungu is spared having to keep looking at the oldest for a bit.

Yonghoon’s long arms immediately wrap around the youngest and Hyungu watches a bit distractedly as Giwook attempts to unravel himself from Yonghoon’s grip, his mind wondering, itching at the thought of the other’s having seen Yonghoon’s chest.

-

Harin pushes his way into his small studio, sleeves rolled up, thick arms that should make Hyungu feel like a weakling but instead makes him reach over, pinch the skin over the curve of Harin’s muscles.

“Break time,” Harin says, making space in Hyungu’s room, easily pushing things around, “it’s kinda really too hot to be in here,” he huffs, sitting heavily, sharp eyes looking at him.

Hyungu smiles at him, eyes back at his screen, saving his work, knowing Harin would be distracting.

“Man, I don’t know how Keonhee and the other’s do it,” Harin continues their one sided conversation, “dancing? In this heat?” he shakes his head and Hyungu laughs, clicking on the browser’s icon, typing in youtube.

“I think I might take a shower when we get back to the dorm,” Harin says, voice now thoughtful, “maybe Yonghoon-hyung will want to join.”

Hyungu’s brain screeches to a halt, fingers hovering over his half written search. He turns to look at Harin, who returns his gaze with wide eyes.

“Unless you want to join me, of course,” he offers, voice a bit confused.

Hyung shakes his head, laughs nervously, “Ah, no,” he says, eyes going back to the screen, clicking enter, “I was just thinking about something else.”  
They watch the newest video from ONEUS, giving it a like before watching the whole thing. Harin laughs at the appropriate times, clearly amused at the others’ antics. Hyungu watches him from the corner of his eyes. He shakes off the weird feeling in his chest and with eyes dead set on the computer finally opens his mouth, “is it weird?” he asks.

Harin turns to look at him, question in his gaze, Hyungu offers a small smile.

“Seeing hyung naked,” he finishes. 

Harin laughs as soon as the words leave him and Hyungu can’t do anything but sit and wait for an answer, smile still on his lips, embarrassed.

“No,” Harin finally answers, wiping tears from his eyes, grinning at him, “he looks just like any other naked man would,” he stops, adds on helpfully, “but skinnier and longer.”

“Ah, right,” Hyungu nods, the video on the screen now over, ONEUS end card showing him other videos, “makes sense.”

“If you want to see Yonghoon-hyung naked just bathe with him,” Harin teases, clearly not picking up (or not caring about) how distressed Hyungu is, “you already do it with everyone else anyway. No big deal.”

_No big deal._

It rings loud in his ears, even after Harin leaves him again, even as he opens new tabs, new samples, recordings, word documents. The words spin in his head, rolling around with scraps of melodies, snippets of lyrics, choked off thoughts.

He’s still thinking about it as he takes a late lunch, eating absentmindedly as he thinks about it more and more. 

He’s not really sure why he’s never bathed with Yonghoon. It’s something they all do often enough, shower together. It’s comforting and helpful and Hyungu tends to find it relaxing. He tends to do it more with the two youngest, mothering them in the way he rubs in bubbles with shampoo in their hair, rinsing out soapy trails with lukewarm water. And of course it’s not easy to pretend there isn’t any comparison. It’s bare bodies alongside bare bodies. And although he and Giwook share a similar lanky frame, Hyungu has grown to catch and notice the small ways Dongmyeong’s body has begun to widen, cut muscles in places they had not been before. Hyungu admires how much Dongmyeong has put into working on his new body, sometimes he’ll make sure to run the water extra hot when he knows the younger has come back from a day at the gym.

Of course it's ten times more different when it involves him and Harin. The differences in their bodies are stark and Hyungu knows his eyes tend to linger a bit too long on the strong lines, curves and dips of defined muscles, rigid lines, marked divots that catch his eyes, glistening with drip drops from their small shower.

He tends to look away, closing his eyes as soon as Harin motions him to turn around, hands coated with Hyungu’s special dye shampoo.

It’s more curiosity than anything else, Hyungu knows this. A curiosity of all things pretty. Hyungu can appreciate the beauty that is Harin’s body, more a work of art than simple biology. There’s just something comforting in the quiet way Harin takes care of him, subtle but ever present.

Not once has he ever shared this kind of experience with Yonghoon. Timing and schedules and overall shyness has made it impossible for Hyungu to share a shower with the other. And opportunity after miss opportunity made it bigger than it had to be, until asking Yonghoon to bathe with him became a giant risk, one that Hyungu would rather not take.

He’s still thinking about, mind skipping back to the Yonghoon’s skin, hype fixating in the way he could just begin to make out the lines past the waistband of his pants. He shakes his head, looking around nervously, as if anyone can see his thoughts as he walks down the hallway, into one of the company bathrooms.

His stomach immediately seizes up, an ache slamming against his heart. His mouth feels coated in vile, eyes landing on Youngjo, by the sink, washing his hands. He looks up when Hyungu lets the door slam behind him. Their eyes meet through the mirror and Hyungu’s mind goes blank when Youngjo smiles at him. 

He has hair falling over his eyes, his shirt sticks to his body, probably from their never-ending dance practice.

“Hyungu-ah,” he says, voice soft, lilting, “hi.”

The water is still running and Hyungu lets that shake him out of his daze, striding to the sink closest to him, fumbling to turn it on, reaching for the automatic soap dispenser.

“Youngjo-hyung, hi,” he says. 

Youngjo’s eyes are still on him, his hands still under the running water.

Hyungu is completely too aware that Youngjo too has seen Yonghoon in states of undress and it fuels his curiosity even more.

How does Yonghoon look naked with Harin, under the spray of their shitty shower head? And with a red hot, piercing, treacherous feeling, how does Yonghoon look naked with Youngjo-hyung? Rolling in bed together? Soft skin blending with twisted bedsheets, glistening with sweat, holding to each other desperately, skin flushed?

“Hey,” Youngjo calls for him, “I think your hands are clean enough.”

Hyungu sees the way his reflection flushes, cheeks tinted pink as he rushes to close the tabs, reaching for paper towels.

“Are you ok, Hyungu-ah?” Youngjo asks, sincere.

Hyungu nods, smiles at the older, timid, “yes, thanks for asking, hyung.”

Youngjo doesn’t look completely convinced. Hyungu panics when the other starts walking closer to him, heart stuttering when he’s close enough to smell the detergent from the other’s clothes, the smell of sweat and lingering cologne.

A large hand lands on the side of his face, cupping carefully, it lingers a little too long for it to be casual, Hyungu knows his skin must be feeling hot, cheeks painting a darker shade of pink. Youngjo’s hand slides up to gently touch his forehead and Hyungu already knows he’s been trapped when Youngo’s eyes knit in concern.

“You’re running a little hot,” Youngjo says, gaze trying to meet Hyungu’s, “are you feeling unwell?”

Hyungu doesn’t answer right away but that must be enough of an answer for Youngjo, who pulls away and takes his phone out, “I’ll text Yonghoon-hyung that you aren’t feeling well,” he says, eyes already set on the screen of his phone, “I’ll walk you back to your studio.”

Hyungu feels a stab of panic, it catches him off guard. He wants to shake his head, tell Youngjo there’s no need to worry.

He can’t get anything out before he feels Youngjo’s hand on his shoulder, guiding him out the door and down the hallway. 

When they open the door to Hyungu’s studio Yonghoon is already there, sitting on Hyungu’s chair, knee jumping in the jittering way Yonghoon gets when he thinks one of them is hurting or sick.

“What’s wrong?” Yonghoon asks, voice rising in his thinly concealed anxiety. Hyungu is struck with just how caring, how nice Yonghoon has been to them.

“I think he’s running a small fever,” Youngjo answers Yonghoon, when Hyungu does nothing but lean heavily on him, “it might be overexertion...”

The sentence trails off, in a stretch that implies something, Hyungu is too consumed by his thoughts to figure it out.

“I already let manager know,” Yonghoon says as he rises, and his hands, arms, _finally_ take him away from Youngjo. From the solid line of his side, the bony curve of his shoulder, the faint smell of detergent that Dongju and Dongmyeong both insist they buy.

“So you’re taking him home,” Youngjo asks, Hyungu almost feels like he isn’t there, stuck between them. If it weren’t for the way Yonghoon’s body completely dwarfs his own, radiating warmth in the places they meet, Hyungu would feel like he was intruding a moment, an easy exchange, something easily and effortlessly domestic.

“Yeah,” Hyungu’s eyes have closed, the light of the room sending jolts of pain across his skull, but he can hear the smile in his voice, happy, “I’ll text you when we get back to the dorm.”

Youngjo chuckles, moves closer to them, “you should hurry up,” he says, voice loud in Hyungu’s head, “he’s already falling asleep.”

There’s a pause, an invitation for something, Hyungu isn’t so sure what it is, he opens his eyes, just barely, only enough to see but not be found out. He watches as Youngjo leans over him, pushing up for a kiss, a playful peck against Younghoon’s lips, followed by a giggle from the older, then a not so harsh scolding, “Hyungu isn’t feeling good, stop playing around.”

He closes his eyes tight when he hears his name, feels the way eyes land on him.

“Wake him up and take him home then,” Youngjo says, hand reaching to touch Hyungu’s forehead again, pushing his hair back in a gentle movement. Hyungu’s eyes flutter.

“Hyungu-ah,” Yonghoon’s voice speaks to him, it feels far away, “let’s take you home and rest.”

Yonghoon collects their things, turns off the lights and holds Hyungu easily. A hand around his waist, when he isn’t careful, it drops and drapes over Hyungu’s hips and Hyungu has enough reason to try to move away, laughing nervously, annoyed.

“I can walk on my own,” he huffs, but it’s not mean, if anything it sounds like he’s trying to reassure. Yonghoon smiles at him as they wait for the van to take them home, still inside the building watching the foot traffic.

“Ok,” he says an easy acquiescence.

But he still helps Hyungu get in the car, reaches over him to put the seatbelt in place. The ride home is short, uneventful. Hyungu starts to feel the way his body is starting to ache, skin feeling like it’s about to burst, joints jabs of discomfort.

Yonghoon helps him up the stairs, into their small living room, where he holds him for a couple of seconds, large hand falling softly on his forehead.

“Maybe sleep will do you some good,” Yonghoon says, good naturedly, already moving them towards their room.

But Hyungu feels gross, unclean, he doesn’t like how sweaty he feels, how the day’s activities cling to him.

“Shower,” he says, a murmur, “let me take a shower.”

He isn’t expecting anything, his brain solely focusing on getting his body clean.

“I’m afraid to leave you alone like this,” Yonghoon answers, but his hand drops to Hyungu’s, pulls him towards their bathroom, “you might fall. I’ll shower with you.”

Hyungu chokes with that, body hacking forward with the power of his coughs, it sounds disgusting and Hyungu can feel the way his body convulses with them.

“Maybe you are getting sick,” Yonghoon fusses, pats Hyungu’s back with measured force. They’re standing in the bathroom, white light harsh, casting shadows that should not make Yonghoon look this attractive.

“I’m not...I’m ok,” Hyungu says, tries to push the other out of the room. But hands reach for the bottom of his sweater, tugging until the material bunches under Hyungu’s armpits, a hand taps at his arm, asking him to raise them up. Hyungu does, his sweater goes off easily, then his t-shirt. He’s bared in front of Yonghoon, he’s aware that he’s on the small side, slim and at best wiry. He can’t make eye contact with the other. 

Hyungu knows it’s stupid, it’s not like Yonghoon is anything too impressive, like Harin, who painstakingly works on perfecting his body.

“Your hair looks cute like that,” Yonghoon laughs, reaching to thread his fingers through his dyed hair, ruffles it even more. 

They go quiet after that, Yonghoon maneuvers them so he can reach the shower, fingers turning on the water, first cold then hot. The water hits in a steady stream, loud in Hyungu’s ears. Soon steam starts to build and Hyungu can feel his body start to relax.

“Go on,” Yonghoon prompts, “I’ll close my eyes if you want to. I won’t look.”

Hyungu turns to look at the older, who moves to sit on the toilet seat, eyes closed, hands covering them.

He quickly undoes his pants, pushes them down alongside his underwear. He climbs under the falling water, pulls the shower curtain close.

“Ok?” Yonghoon asks.

“Yeah,” Hyungu’s voice cracks, nervous, “you can leave, I’m ok.”

“You are sick,” Yonghoon protests, “I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself...Youngjo was practically holding you up the whole time we were in your studio.”

Hyungu blinks, water drops landing against his eyes, trailing down the side of his head. His legs are terribly sore feeling and he knows that if he were to slip in the shower it could end up being dangerous.

“Ok,” he relents, opening the shower curtain enough to peak at the other, “you can stay.”

“Do you need help with your hair?” Yonghoon asks, grin wide, cheerful, “I’ve been told I’m really good at shampooing.”

Hyungu wants to say no, but the part of him that’s tired, exhausted...curious, wants to be babied, wants to let himself be babied.

“Ok,” he mumbles, quiet. 

“I’ll have to open the shower curtain, is that ok?” Yonghoon asks, hands still staying by his side.

“Yeah,” Hyungu’s chest feels oddly tight, palms prickling, “it’s ok.”

He closes his eyes when he hears Yonghoon pull the shower curtain back, feels the way cold air hits him. He curls a bit into himself, until Yonghoon’s body blocks his own from view. Except there’s no one else to hide from, and Yonghoon’s gaze stays decidedly on Hyungu’s face.

“The special purple shampoo, right?” he’s pretending like he doesn’t know and if Hyungu were feeling better, if he wasn’t just a couple of steps away from having what he has been thinking about nonstop, he would have rolled his eyes, scoffed, poked fun at the other.

Instead he nods, answers in a quiet _yeah_ , turns around to let Yonghoon reach his hair easier. It doesn’t feel cold like when Hyungu does it himself. Yonghoon’s fingers are long and careful, Hyungu leans back towards the touch, eyes closing as Yonghoon massages his scalp, a heavy, warm reassurance.

“Ah, sorry,” Yonghoon says, breaks the spell, “My sweater is getting wet, let me just roll up the sleeves.”

It takes only a few seconds before Yonghoon’s fingers are back in his hair but just as quickly he pulls back, muttering to himself as he adjusts his sleeves again. 

It happens enough times to get annoying and Hyungu huffs about it, stares at the linoleum tiles in front of him as he says, “just come in.”

He sounds petulant, like a child who just wants to be coddled and spoilt, too sick feeling to care what he’s really asking for.

“It’s - it’s ok,” Yonghoon stutters, “let me just push them back up.”

“It’s annoying,” Hyungu keeps talking, “we’ll be here forever.”

Yonghoon pushes his sleeves up again but it’s a vain effort when he has to stop again and Hyungu feels childishly validated.

“Your sleeves are already wet,” he says, voice low under the spray, “you’ll get sick if you don’t take a shower.”

Nothing happens for a second, then another. The water keeps running, still hot, Hyungu feels the way it splashes against him, the trail of his shampoo down his neck.

“If you’re ok with it, then I’m ok with it,” Yonghoon says, Hyungu senses just how tense Yonghoon is, breathing barely audible between them.

“You’ll get sick,” Hyungu says, can’t say it any more clearly if he tried.

“Ok,” Yonghoon finally says, and with his back still turned to the oldest, Hyungu listens as he pulls his sweater over his head, how it lands on the floor, then the sound of his jeans, the zipper, the low thump of their heavy material hitting the floor. 

He holds his breath when he thinks about Yonghoon pulling off his underwear, now completely naked, just behind him. The shower curtain gets pulled back a bit, a rush of cool air hitting him, breaking his skin into goosebumps.

“I’m sorry,” Yonghoon says and Hyungu turns his head away to hide his smile, as Yonghoon’s larger frame takes up too much space, pushes Hyungu closer to the wall of the shower head. Yonghoon’s bony hand reaches to close the curtain, and then, in a slippery glide, smooth over Hyungu’s shoulder, fingers gripping careful to turn him, so Hyungu’s hair is presented right at Yonghoon and all Hyungu can look at is the way the water spirals down the drain.

Fingers go back to his hair, somehow much more tender, movements that spring something where Hyungu’s heart should be, so loving, it sprouts right through, until it feels like he has flowers blooming in his throat and he can’t speak.

“Duck your head,” Yonghoon demands, “rinse off.”

Hyungu doesn’t listen, it doesn’t matter when Yonghoon’s hands carefully lean him forward, under the falling water, washing off the soapy bubbles in his hair.

He shivers when he feels the weight of Yonghoon’s palm against the back of his neck, an indulgent moment before he shifts, opening his eyes, water stinging against them.

“What now?” Hyungu asks, at the floor.

“Conditioner,” Yonghoon answers, “then body wash.”

Hyungu goes quiet as Yonghoon does as he pleases, as Yonghoon holds and touches him fleetingly, as if afraid to spook Hyungu away.

“It says to wait three minutes,” Yonghoon comments, voice light, as his fingers message in the conditioner into his hair. 

Hyungu doesn’t know what to say, as they both stand in the shower, bodies bared, too close.

“Are you feeling better?” Yonghoon asks, voice directly by his ear. The water is still hot but he feels the way his body shivers.

He nods, and it seems to be enough for Yonghoon, who reaches forward, scoops back the hair falling into Hyungu’s eyes, like Youngjo had done earlier..

“Your eyes will hurt,” he says as explanation, “from the conditioner.”

_It’s sweet_ , Hyungu thinks. A small gesture that Hyungu finds makes his heart halt then start again, wistfully making a bigger deal out of it than it really is.

“Time’s up,” Yonghoon says, after what feels like 3 hours. 

Conditioner gets rinsed off and then his eyes flicker at the movements of Yonghoon reaching for Hyungu’s body wash, the matching bath sponge.

The flowery smell hits him as soon as Yonghoon opens it. It’s a scent that is purely his, the one he pretends not to notice that Yonghoon sometimes has too.

“There’s a lot left here,” Yonghoon says, comment edging on laughter. 

Hyungu doesn’t say anything but knows that it’s hard to keep the other’s away from his things. His body wash seems to be the only thing that sometimes goes unscathed.

He tenses, he can’t help it, when Yonghoon’s hand starts it’s meticulous task of cleaning Hyungu’s body. He starts with his back. Hyungu’s eyes close on their own, focusing on the way that he can just make out the touch of Yonghoon’s fingertips where the sponge is too small in his palm.

It’s small, light movements, if Hyungu were to allowed himself even just a bit more of an indulgence, he would think it means something, like the shimmering feeling around his insides happens to Yonghoon too, when they meet eyes and it feels like everything, everyone is just the other.

He startles, brain stuttering when a hand cups the jutting line of his hip, fingers callous but trying so _so_ hard to be tender. He feels the way Yonghoon’s fingers twitch, asking for forgiveness for being so harsh to Hyungu’s body.

Yonghoon’s hand squeezes his hip, Hyungu is so caught off guard at the feeling, he turns his head to watch, eyes unable to look away at the way Yonghoon’s hand cups almost the entirety of his hip.

His gaze flickers to the floor, where soapy water swirls around their feet, down the drain, fleeting. He knows that if he looks up Yonghoon will be looking at him. With those _eyes_ , asking, _begging_ for affection, for Hyungu to stay in his arms just a bit longer, for Hyungu to let Yonghoon coddle him, love him.

There’s only the sound of the water breaking over the slick shower floor, the suffocating feeling of the steam, the closeness, the way there’s nothing between their bodies. Hyungu lets his eyes close, and at that same moment feels the way Yonghoon’s hand begins to move, bringing the soft feeling of soapy bubbles over his stomach, just barely close to where he is embarrassingly starting to grow hard. 

Yonghoon, not one to be mean, pretends not to notice. Instead, bring his hand upwards and it feels _safe_. Yonghoon’s hand brings the sponge to his sides, towards his chest. Until the slide of the soap makes Yonghoon’s hands clumsy and it brushes across one of Hyungu’s nipples. 

_It must be the cold_ , Hyungu feebly thinks, as it pebbles from the single touch, hard under Yonghoon’s fingers. His breath hitches and he bites down hard, the inside of his cheek until he can taste how he’s broken skin, fist limp and tight at his sides.

“Sorry,” Yonghoon mumbles, his breath is warm, raising goosebumps along his arm, his hand drops again to his lower belly, the other still on his hip. His thumb presses gently down, at the dip of the bone, and it becomes less about getting clean, more Yonghoon holding him.

“Tell me if I’m reading this whole thing wrong,” Yonghoon speaks, Hyungu turns to look back at him, is met with Yonghoon’s gaze, with the unavoidable way their lips are almost touching, nothing but a hair's width of air between them.

“Youngjo-hyung,” Hyungu has the mind to remind him, looking at Yonghoon’s face, his damp hair, bare face, the long line of his neck, the flare of it to Yonghoon’s wide shoulders.

“He’ll kiss you too,” Yonghoon says, “if you ask him to.”

And that does something to Hyungu, a burning hot iron ball ripping right through the vines and flowers blooming up his throat, down his stomach.

All the images he has been thinking off, dreaming about, fantasizing over, looping over and over in his head. Of Yonghoon and Youngjo, together. In bed, naked, kissing, touching, tasting. It’s all so close to him, so easily within his grasp. And all he had to do was _ask_.

“You aren’t reading this wrong,” Hyungu says, voice rough against his throat, he feels like he can’t breathe, between the warmth of the shower, Yonghoon’s body heat.

Yonghoon kisses him like everything else he’s given Hyungu, soft, quiet, shy. 

It’s a slow slide of lips, the curl of Yonghoon’s tongue at Hyungu’s bottom lip, a tiny gasp that makes him part his lips, shocked by the way Yonghoon’s tongue finds its way into his mouth, hot and wet, licking against the roof of Hyungu’s mouth, touching Hyungu’s tongue. His neck hurts from the angle, jaw aching, it all clouds at the feeling Yonghoon pulls from him, a wet, dirty sucking of his tongue, slick between them. It makes Hyungu stumble, lower belly aching.

Yonghoon pulls away, lips glistening from their shared saliva, set on Hyungu’s own mouth, a smile barely starting to form.

Yonghoon’s arms go around his body, soapy sponge dropping, turning Hyungu’s body fully away from him, he settles his chin on the crook of Hyungu’s neck and shoulder, fingers gripping tighter at Hyungu’s hips.

“You’re beautiful,” Yonghoon says, drops a kiss to Hyungu’s cheek, “so pretty. Youngjo can’t get enough of it.”

Hyungu stutters, caught off guard, “I’m - I’m not that pretty,” he swallows, “like Youngjo-hyung...like _you_.”

“Hyungu-ah,” Yonghoon starts, in that warning tone he always has when one of them rejects his compliments, his praises, “you’re gorgeous.”

It’s all he gets before one of Yonghoon’s hands leaves his hips.

“ _Ah_ ,” Hyungu cries, voice dragging into a whine as Yonghoon’s hand cups between his legs, palm riding up the line of Hyungu’s hard cock.

The water has turned lukewarm, but it’s still pleasant, grounding him as Yonghoon’s hand wraps around Hyungu’s length, tentative in a way that Hyungu knows Yonghoon is still being careful, not unsure.

Hyungu can’t look away, from the glide of Yonghoon’s hand on him, the slow practiced stroke from the root of him, all the way to the tip, palm wiping against his slit until precome starts to bead, pearly and glistening.

His ears go read when he hears the slick sound of it as Yonghoon collects it, uses it for an easier glide.

Yonghoon rides the line of his palm against the underside of Hyungu’s dick, carefully but determined, unapologetic.

Hyungu’s hips twitch at the feeling, shameless in asking for more. Yonghoon’s hands are warm, and soft, fingers long, bigger than his. They’re heavy, warm, fingers wrap tight around him, tugging him lazily, soft strokes that make Hyungu’s thighs tremble, tighten, struggle to keep himself up.

And when Yonghoon wipes at his head again, deliciously mercilessly, his knees give out, and it’s only Yonghoon’s hand on his hip that keeps him up, makes him bite his tongue when again Yonghoon uses his wetness to ease the friction, a velvet glide at has his eyes closing for a second.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Yonghoon says, it sounds like a secret, like something between them both and only them.

“Youngjo’s had dreams like these you know, about you.”

Hyungu can’t answer, he’s not as shameless, mind half focusing as Yonghoon’s fist tightens around him, a tap on his hip silently urges him, encourages him to fuck into the tight softness of it.

“He gets so worked up about them,” Yonghoon continues his one sided conversation, “he has to take it all out on me.”

It does what it’s supposed to do, the imagery sparks in Hyungu’s head, again, thoughts of twisted sheets, glistening skin, Yonghoon’s soft moans, half choked whimpers as Youngjo laid with him, touched him in his most intimate places, tasted every single part of him, scorching hot touches, minds filthy with shared images of Hyungu.

“He touches me like how he wants to touch you,” Yonghoon’s voice is breathy, fingers digging angry welts on the skin stretched thin over his hip, “he _fucks_ me thinking of you Hyungu-ah.”

That word, stumbling from Yonghoon’s mouth, in the sweetest of tones Hyungu has ever been lucky enough to have heard, to have gotten as his inspiration, it clicks something on inside of him.

His hips stutter, searching for Yonghoon’s tight fingers, and he can’t stop the rutting of them as he desperately tries to come, whimpering when Yonghoon squeezes tighter, bend down to bite down against his shoulder.

“You’d let Jjonyangie fuck you, right Hyungu-ah?” Yonghoon asks and Hyungu barely thinks before he’s nodding, hips still going, Hyungu should be embarrassed, all he wants is for Yonghoon to have him whole.

“You’d let hyung too, right?” Yonghoon asks, Hyungu nods again, jaw clenching as he feels his orgasm near, Yonghoon’s hand become more slick with the precome his milked out of Hyungu.

“Right now?” Yonghoon continues and the idea of getting taken, by Yonghoon, in the quickly cooling shower has him coming. Body going taut, toes curling as he slumps forward, Yonghoon’s arm going to wrap around his middle, holding him upright as Hyungu’s dick spurts thick lines of come, landing on the wall, pooling all over Yonghoon’s fist. He’s half dazed, brain and heart melting together, dripping into the pit of his stomach as he nods and it’s all Yonghoon needs as he moves his hand from Hyungu’s dick, gives it one last teasing tug before he reaches between them and Hyungu can feel the slickness of his come being pressed into his hole.

His face goes bright red, but his stomach begins to heat with the feeling, with the thoughts of what’s about to happen.

His body is still heavy, still relaxed from his orgasm, it makes the first finger push in easily and Hyungu goes limp as Yonghoon gives a slight crook, then pulls in and out again. His fingers feel so much longer inside him, Hyungu thinks dumbly, as it touches him, searching until his knees really do give up and Yonghoon is holding him up completely.

“Hyung,” Hyungu moans, a slur more than anything as his eyes close, mouth dropping open when Yonghoon’s finger pulls out again and a second joins it.

The sounds between himself and Yonghoon’s fingers are lewd, loud in his ears even with the sound of the shower still running, loud wet, slick sounds.

“Youngjo’s hands are a bit bigger,” Yonghoon says, helpfully, “fingers thicker too.”

He’s growing hard again and if he’s not careful he may come for a second time way too early.

“And if we send a picture of this to Youngjo?” Yonghoon asks, and it’s such a dirty, _scandalous_ idea Hyungu’s heart stops.

“ _Hyung_ ,” he gasps, his cock twitches and Yonghoon laughs, pleased at the reaction.

“Hm?” Yonghoon hums as an answer, takes his time as he adds a third finger, makes sure to aim for Hyungu’s prostate, growing desperate himself, “he would like it, you know?”

The sounds of Yonghoon's fingers inside of him are getting to be too much, Hyungu’s cock painfully hard, flushed a dark pink, stands proud, curving with his desire.

“A picture of my cock inside you, you stretched around me, skin so soft looking, wet,” he stops, leaves his fingers deep inside Hyungu, as if thinking, “maybe a video, to hear your cute little whimpers, watch as you take me over and over again.” 

Hyungu is close, and Yonghoon is not even inside of him yet, “he’ll get so hard, Hyungu, Youngjo would get so hard, he’ll have to excuse himself, touch himself thinking of you, me, _us_ , in the bathroom.”

Yonghoon pulls his fingers away, and it’s not even a second before he feels the bluntness of Yonghoon’s dick, wet, and hot, probe against his entrance, swearing his own precome against it.

“ _Pretty_ ,” Yonghoon whispers, when Hyungu feels the way his hole flutters, clenches at the teasing, the promise of it inside of him.

And it’s everything Yonghoon is, teasing, but now so soft, so gentle, afraid to hurt him, as he enters him slowly. 

_He’s big_ , Hyungu thinks, he’s big and long and Hyungu really shouldn’t be surprised, should know by now that everything about Yonghoon is a noteworthy size.

Yonghoon is going so slow he can feel every inch, sinking deep into him, dragging against his walls, making space for himself.

He makes a sound when Yonghoon finally bottoms out, finally all in, flushed, pressed so close to Hyungu he has no idea where he ends and where Yonghoon starts.

“Is this good?” Yonghoon asks and it’s so endearing, so _Yonghoon_ , Hyungu laughs a little, pleased, bit out of it, so full.

“Yes,” he whispers, quietly, “yes, it’s really good.”

Yonghoon pulls out and in the most sensual, most teasing way rolls back into him. He hits deep again, Hyungu can feel the way his eyes try to roll back, he lets them flutter close, mouth parting into heavy breathes, hiccups of Yonghoon’s name, little pleads, _please, please, hyung faster_.

But it never happens, Yonghoon fucks him slow, and it’s so sinful, so indulgent, it’s almost like he can feel every ridge of Yonghoon’s cock inside him, feel every pull of his walls as Yonghoon dicks into him.

“You’re too pretty like this to rough up,” Yonghoon breathes out, arm tightening around Hyungu’s stomach, “maybe you can have Youngjo do that with you.”

And it’s not a suggestion, it hits him like a promise and he clenches hard, can feel the way Yonghoon’s hips twitch to a stop, lodge inside of him.

“Can you come like this?” Yonghoon asks, gentle, “just from me inside you?”

His hips are back to rolling, making Hyungu stumble forward, until his hand lands on the cold tile of the shower wall in front him, gathered in Yonghoon’s arms.

His head drops, and he gets greeted with the sight of his dick, angrily flushed, bobbing with Yonghoon’s movements, leaking obscenely.

“Yes,” he says, voice meek, “yes _please_.”

Yonghoon rocks into him and then it’s nothing but the desperate chase of Yonghoon trying to use his body for his release.

It’s not fast, or hard, it’s Yonghoon staying deep inside him, as if unable to bear leaving him, grinding and rutting into him, until he nudges Hyungu’s prostate and doesn’t let off, makes Hyungu choke out as the pleasure of it becomes too much and he comes for a second time to bursts of white behind his tightly closed eyes, fingers digging into his palm, legs locking before, rocking him for a moment too long, and then the way his stomach clenches when he feels Yonghoon come inside him, hot and fast, hitting his overused prostate until he’s just hanging on from Yonghoon’s arm around him.

Yonghoon comes for a bit longer than him, and then finally stops, kissing the knob of Hyungu’s spine before pulling out.

He feels cold, then the embarrassing trail of come leaving him.

Yonghoon’s fingers press where he is still open, he can feel how they slick up with Yonghoon’s come, leaving a trail to the curve of his ass, and then his thumb pressing him close.

“Let’s clean you up,” Yonghoon says, “the warm water is almost done.”

-

Yonghoon had been thorough in his cleaning, turning on the hot water until the shower head had given them a lukewarm spray. He’s gentle and soft, and asks Hyungu how he’s feeling. He dresses him, in his favorite purple sweater, sits him down on his bed to dry his hair with a towel.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks when he finally finishes, towel in hand, faces only inches apart.

“Yes,” Hyungu answers.

His body is sore, he feels absolutely used and boneless and sated, curiosity muted for now.

“Are you ok?” Yonghoon asks, and it's easy to hear the _with this_ left unsaid.

And for once, Hyungu is tired of just watching and wants to know, wants to touch and taste and experience.

He nods, shyly.

Yonghoon kisses him, square on the mouth, a closed mouth, peck, unlike the intimate kisses they had shared in the shower. Tongue and saliva, biting.

“I’ll ask Youngjo, if he can meet with us, to talk about this properly.”

It makes it feel all too real, but Hyungu’s curiosity is peaked again, and he wonders if he’ll end up getting hurt in all of this.

He looks up at Yonghoon, at his pretty face, his soft eyes, pink mouth.

He thinks it might be worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> there's just something about these three? i thought it would be interesting to write something like this. i started writing this in april lol it was supposed to be a quick oneshot, maybe 3k words but its kinda grown into this so expect two more parts ~~can you figure out whats going to happen next lol~~
> 
> i think i might write more of these weus odd pairings from now on lol. if you read this; thank you!


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